Smidgeon of Happiness
by OhMyGodOranges
Summary: Set during season three. An aggressive encounter between Alex Mahone and Michael Scofield takes a surprising turn. Slash/mature content. One-shot.


**Warning: Slash/mature content. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing characters or anything else you recognise. **

* * *

**Alex**

He was floating, floating as if underwater. The mix of greys from the walls, the dirty people and the grime rushed past him and danced around him, beckoning and whispering. Not in an ominous way, but in a playful way, peacefully. Alex felt at peace himself; he felt able, like his old self again. The corners of his lips pointed upward, and his facial muscles were relaxed, neither prominent enough to express even a smidgeon of what he felt inside. This was true most of the time, however. The colours kept shifting around him and then formed into calm, grounding grey in front of him; Michael's old cell. Alex stood, captivated for a moment, taking in the serenity. Then, he noticed the pen that took so much effort for him to find. It was left behind, a different set of colour for Alex to look at. An uneasy thought slowly resurfaced: if it was so important, why was it laying here, forgotten? Alex reached, picked it up and gave it an examining look. And suddenly, all of the colours turned into a swirl of blood red. He was going to confront Michael, but first, he needed to get something.

The confrontation refreshed Alex. It was something that he knew how to do, to threaten others. The sureness, the clarity that accompanied it was so satisfying; it brought back the old feeling of superiority, of knowing that he was able to do whatever he wanted. People, who irritated him at their best, shied away from his anger, Alex could see it in their eyes. However unresponsive Michael seemed to threats, Alex knew that he was affecting him by the slight widening of his eyes, protrusion of his jaw, tension in his neck. And just like that Alex was distracted, lost in the texture of the skin. His eyes followed the thump seen by a lone blood vessel, so beautiful in its never-ending progress. Except of course, he could end it, he could disrupt its headway at any second he wanted. The power was his, and it excited him, it filled him up with strength and assertiveness. He wanted to touch the blood vessel; he wanted to feel it, to be close to it…

"What are you doing?" Michael pushed him away, resulting in a reflexive movement by Alex, the end result of which was the blade pressed at Michael's throat.

"Alex, listen to me, you don't want to do this. You need to sort yourself out. Just walk away."

Alex hummed. He looked at Michael's face, so beautifully crafted and almost lost himself again.

"You don't know what I want." He answered. As soon as the words were said, Alex did have a name for what he wanted. He wanted Michael. So he captured his lips with his own.

* * *

**Michael**

Michael did not expect this. He would have been unsurprised if Alex had driven the blade into his neck, spat and turned away, or any other more or less aggressive action, but this caught him unawares. For the first few seconds he was too stunned to react, feeling as if this could not be happening, rather it was somehow a figment of his imagination brought to life.

When he finally caught up with himself, he braced his hands on Alex's chest and pushed him away gently. Studying his face, he noticed every pore, every hair and every line. Having someone so close to him brought a lot of feelings to the surface, he felt naked, uncomfortable, yet connected. He looked at Alex. Alex looked back. It was so strange, but Michael felt an urge rumbling somewhere deep inside, trying to convince him to let go. And then Michael did something out of character; he listened to it, he let himself go for the first time since deciding to rescue his brother, he let go and instead of his mind controlling his body, it was his body controlling him. He was kissing Alex passionately, feeling his lips and tongue and mouth, pressing up against him, pulling him to the bed, feeling his heavy, toned body on top of his, and most of all seeking comfort, soaking it in, rational thought abandoned.

* * *

**Alex**

Alex's senses were heightened to the point that every touch stung, every kiss burned and every breath chilled, although none of it in an unpleasant way. Alex felt like he needed this, this awakening, this physical feeling so unlike anything else he had experienced in the past year. The intensity was overwhelming and all he could do was hold on, obeying his body and his needs. He did not spare a second thought to those outside, some of whom stared, some of whom departed hurriedly. This was a feeling unlike any other, summing and multiplying the psychological and the physical. Michael's skin was scorching underneath his touch and he rejoiced in it, touching him, exploring him, the fire growing, burning, consuming both of them, and embracing them within its bright flames.

Alex woke up, his head pounding. He brought his hand up to his forehead, pausing for the pain to subside. He was in an unfamiliar bed…with Michael. This did not make sense. What happened yesterday? He could not recall, a dark haze encompassing the memory of last night. He got up, found his shoes and several items of clothing and departed. It was very early in the morning and only a few of the men were stirring around. Alex made way to his cell, lay down and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

**Michael**

Michael felt Alex depart. He was awake, but kept his eyes shut, enjoying the bright morning sunlight tickling his eyelids. The memories of last night kept circling his mind, and a whole range of emotions succeeded one another. A small smile played on his face, one that seemed incredibly strange in this awful place.

* * *

But perhaps what was indeed strange is that for the first time since they have been trapped in here, there was something positive for them to feel. They were in such a scary unpredictable place, placed between life and death at every turn but they felt a drop of happiness in this dark ocean, they felt comforted, connected, not alone. The feeling was probably fleeting, but it was here now, right this minute and it was as true and present as the dark walls around them, and this is where we should leave them be, in this moment, safe and protected, where the only problem is how they would come to terms with sharing something so intimate together.

**Author's note: Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed. If you have a minute, please let me know what you thought!**


End file.
